Father Mac – a big man in strength and spirit

Of priests we can offer a charmin’ variety,
Far renowned for learnin’ and piety.
Still I’d advance ye without impropriety,
Father O’Flynn is the flow’r of them all.

Recently, the first line of that song which my mother used to play and sing around this time of year popped into my head. I did a little research and found that it is an ancient tune, but the lyrics were written by the son of a Protestant bishop of Dublin, about a Catholic priest who left an impression on him in his youth.

I don’t know if my mother was aware of the history of the song, but I do know that when she played it, she thought of a priest who left an important impression on her, on our family and many families in the village of Barry’s Bay: Rev. Martin S. McNamara (1899-1958) or “Father Mac” as he was commonly known.

Father Mac’s photograph had a prominent place in our living room. When I was old enough to ask who the priest was, my mother said,

That’s Father Mac. We were the last couple he married with both legs.

At first, I wondered why after 1951 he would specialize in marrying amputees, but as I got older and asked more questions, I realized that he was the amputee. Over the years, I learned more about him.

A picnic (from left) Stasia Dunnigan, Jack Dunnigan, Mark Billings, Father Mac and policeman Jim Aldrett. (Woermke collection)

Father Mac was known for celebrating mass quickly and he had no patience for long drawn-out singing. One Christmas, Sister Leona Harrington had the choir rehearse a beautiful but elaborate version of the Credo for Midnight Mass. In the midst of it, Father Mac stood up from his chair, turned to the choir and bellowed,

Are you folks ever gonna finish up there?

Father Mac initiated St. Patrick’s Day plays and concerts. One parishioner whose role required him to ride a bicycle across the stage, overdid the liquid courage and appeared weaving dangerously on the stage. Father Mac jumped up, announced a fifteen-minute intermission, closed the curtains, dragged the inebriate outside and stuck his head in a snowbank. When the intermission was over the show went on without a hitch.

Poster for the St. Patrick’s Concert in 1958, the year Father Mac died. (Conway collection)

Father Mac suffered from diabetes and poor circulation. After an injury to his foot led to gangrene, he required a series of amputations – his foot first, then his leg and, eventually, his other leg too. Father Mac didn’t give up; he ordered prosthetics. Unable to use crutches at the altar, he began celebrating mass sitting on a piano stool which enabled him to turn to the people and back to the altar again. When the bishop challenged him because the rubrics required the priest to stand at times during the Mass, he had altar servers prop him up. Eventually he had a walker modified to suit his needs.

Father Mac enlisted the help of a young mechanic, Raymond Conway, to install hand controls in his car, so he could get about the area. One evening returning from Combermere, he failed to negotiate the turn on the highway near Barney’s Lane and ended up in a rather deep ditch hidden from view. Several cars passed without hearing his shouts, but when he unstrapped his prosthetic legs and threw them up onto the highway, he got immediate help from a startled motorist.

Programme and Menu from Father Mac’s 25^th anniversary of priesthood. Note the names of the dishes. (Conway collection)

Father Mac died in 1958 following surgery at the Ottawa General Hospital. His funeral was held at St. Lawrence O’Toole but he was buried in his native Eganville. Father Louie Casartelli noted what made Father Mac great in the funeral sermon:

No matter what the occasion – a Forty Hours devotion, a picnic, a bazaar, a funeral or a wake, Father Mac was always there with a helping hand. In spite of his heavy cross, he could always fall back on his great sense of humour and come up with a joke instead of a complaint.

Years later, in a booklet to commemorate the parish’s 75^th anniversary, Phil Conway reiterated this, describing Father Mac as

a big man, in strength and spirit, who endeared himself to practically everyone he encountered.

Songs about priests aren’t likely to get much play in Ireland or anywhere else these days. We can’t ignore the scandals and the suffering, but we also have to remember that there were – and are – many good, faithful priests who continue to inspire us. Father Mac was one of those good ones.

Author’s note: Thanks to Cecilia Conway for allowing me to use items from her local history collection in preparing this piece.

Featured photo at top: Father Mac (Woermke collection)

About the author: Descended from railroaders and hotel keepers, Mark Woermke has deep roots in the Madawaska Valley. A high school teacher in Ottawa, Mark spends as much time as he can in the Madawaska Valley gardening, writing and enjoying its cultural wealth and natural beauty. Mark also blogs at https://prussianhillsblog.wordpress.com and manages the group Renfrew County Germans on Facebook.